A First Step
by QuartzFox
Summary: That idiot's really ruined his stupid hand! Why I even bother to try to help him, I'm not entirely sure. Although it's true: sometimes I think, just for a moment, that he's really not all that bad. Fortunately, I usually get over it quickly...


**A First Step**

_[AN] I find it hard to believe I am writing another Sanosuke/Megumi sort of story, but then they had this conversation in my head and I had to write it down. It takes place in Kyoto, not too long after the conversation in the manga where Sanosuke says that one really sweet thing… [/AN]_

I wonder if he'll say something nice again. A few days ago, when he said that he didn't think Kensan would be quite so happy where he was if he could see me then… Well. It's a moot point, I suppose. No matter. As long as Kensan is happy, then I am content.

Or so I tell myself.

It's a little uncanny, really, the way _he_ sees through me…

"Oiy, Kitsune, let's get this over with, ne?"

"Ah, Sanosuke, charming as ever," I drawl as he appears in the doorway of the room I had commandeered as my makeshift clinic while we stay at the Shirobeko. Really, Sae and her family are nicer than we probably deserve.

He grins, that cocky, infuriating expression that usually makes me want to shove something in his mouth. Something like a brick. He's so good looking when he's not being so arrogant…

Ugh, I cannot believe I'm thinking such things! I tune back in to whatever he's saying, and immediately regret it.

"…honestly think I come for the company?"

"So much for you saying nice things," I mutter, not bothering to be quiet. He hears, as I'd intended, and all of an instant expresses his indignation.

Indignant looks better on him than arrogant.

"Just fix my hand," he finally grumbles. His voice, when he isn't raising it with too much forced exuberance, is actually kind of pleasant, deep and grumbly. I wonder if he would read aloud to his kids.

I wonder if he reads.

No, that's unworthy of me; while even he would admit that he's not the world's greatest mind, he is at least literate. I should be focusing on the task at hand.

Pun totally intended. I feel my lips quirk. He, of course, is immediately defensive. "What are you smirkin' about?"

"Nothing. I was thinking about something else."

Surprisingly, that silences him. When he finally speaks again, he sounds… sulky? "Something Kenshin said?"

I look up at him in surprise. "What? No. Not that my thoughts are any of your business."

"When it affects my friends, it is my business." Now he sounds both defensive and aggressive at once. I'm beginning to believe he's upset about something.

"You might as well tell me what's on your mind," I say, sighing as I unwrap the bandages from his ruined right hand.

He's quiet for a long time. More than once he seems on the verge of speaking, and so I let him work it out for himself. Instead, I concentrate on his hand, trying to be as careful as possible as I palpate the fractured bones in his hand. So many bones… SO many fractures. How he even has anything resembling a hand left amazes me, and probably always will – at least, it will if he doesn't use that stupid technique again and destroy the limb utterly. He has explained the mechanics of this new technique of his, but I didn't care, then or now, about how it works. Honestly, I wish once again he'd never learned it. Not if it's going to ruin him like this.

"You… Do you really just flirt with him to make Jouchan mad?"

I freeze, caught off guard by the question. It's certainly the last thing I expected him to ask! "No, of course not!" I reply indignantly, but I could feel a wicked grin spread across my face as I toss my head in a gesture he knows well. He doesn't seem to be buying it. "Well, maybe a little." I concede.

"You really do lo… like him, don't you." The tori-atama was ducking his head so I couldn't see his face. I was beginning to wonder about his sanity. It's strange for him to ask such a thing. After last week's conversation, I would have thought he would have known. He had apologized, after all, after saying something about Kensan and Kaoru seeming more relaxed together, more like a couple… The thought hurts all over again so I stop it cold.

He looks at me at last, expecting an answer.

"It doesn't matter, does it? He's clearly come to care for her," I say, trying for nonchalance. I turn my face away from him, looking for where I had put the clean bandages.

"Other side, Kitsune," he says, again with a tone that said he doesn't believe my little display. "And that wasn't what I asked."

I'm beginning to be a little uncomfortable. He sees me too clearly. He sees straight through to my heart and I don't want him to see it; I don't want anyone to see the damaged, scarred little thing that beats only for a dream I know I can never attain.

"Kensan is a very important person to all of us." I focus all my attention on his hand, on bandaging each finger carefully.

"But do you love him?" This time he says it without stumbling over the word.

"Why are you asking me this?" The question tears from my throat before I can stop it. Anger at my own outburst and embarrassment at the conversation make me even more irritable. I stop bandaging, knowing that as tempting as it is to try to make him feel a little more pain at the moment, it goes against all I stand for. And his hands are so warm… I do not want that warmth near me, just now. I don't want his sympathy. I just want to wrap myself up in the hurt and hide away from everything else. I know I will never have a chance with Kensan. Does he have to rub it in?

"Megumi, I…" He searches for words for a moment. I can see him searching. "Look. I'm sorry. Forget I asked." He stands up to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Sit down, Sanosuke. Your bandages aren't finished yet." It hasn't escaped me that he'd called me by my name. Just my name. Not sensei, or onnasensei, or Kitsune, or any of the other appellations with which he's stuck me over the months. And I didn't miss the hurt in his eyes, either… I'm not quite so deep in my own pain that I'm oblivious to anyone else's.

I am, after all, a Takani, and we are the foremost medical bloodline in Japan.

He stares at me, then slowly sits. Neither one of us speaks again for a long moment as I resume tending to his hand.

"That came out of nowhere," I say, stalling for more time. Oddly, while I'm still angry and hurt and scared, I kind of don't really want him to leave just yet. I slow down my treatment of him.

His hands are very warm under mine.

I don't know why I'm so cold in the middle of summer. I don't know why I'm suddenly noticing how warm his hands are. Really, this is very irritating.

"I was just wonderin'," he says finally. I get the impression that he's stalling, too.

I try to stretch it out as long as I can, but his hand really does seem to be beginning to heal somewhat, and I can only bandage it for so long before someone starts getting suspicious. Like him.

"It's very sweet of you to look out for Kaoruchan's interests," I say, and even though I mean it, I can hear the acid note creeping into my voice. It irritates me. I've been meaning to talk to her about the whole situation. I suppose I should do that soon, before we leave Kyoto. Heaven knows that there are no secrets back home in Tokyo. And I really do think it's sweet of Sanosuke. He can be nice when he's not trying. It's when he puts forth an effort that he usually messes up and ends up being annoying.

I see the irritation flash across his face, and I stop him before he can speak with a tug of the bandages. "Sorry, I slipped." He gives me a dirty look, but then I see surprise on his face.

"You're crying," he says. It's a major revelation, as though he's never seen a woman cry before.

"Something in my eye," I say calmly. "It's just tearing." We both know I'm lying now.

He only grunts.

"If you must know…" I let my words hang in the air, trailing the tantalizing scent of truth. Part of me wants him to know, needs him to know that truth. I need to talk to someone about it.

But he's also Kensan's best and most trusted friend…

"Talk," he finally grunts, apparently annoyed that I'm playing this game.

Except I'm not playing. I'm absolutely terrified that once the truth is out there, once he knows for sure, he'll take the ball and run with it and never let me live it down. The truth is… "The truth is," I finally manage to say, and am amazed that my voice is as even as it is, "you're right." I can't believe I just admitted that Sagara Sanosuke is right about something! "I do care about Kensan more than I ought. I know he'll never see me in that light." My throat is so tight; I'm not sure how the words are getting out. "I think I fell for him the moment he interrupted me at the mansion, when he stopped me from admitting my involvement." My lips twitch a little at the memory. My heart does too. "My life meant so much to him. The lives of the people my medicine might help meant so much… How could I _not_ love someone who has so much to give?" The tears were falling faster. I don't care to stop them. "How could I stop loving him?"

He stares at me, totally taken aback, for a long moment. "Oh, Kitsune," he sighs, and suddenly he stands up and the next thing I know, his arms are around me and I am sobbing, silently, shamelessly into his shoulder.

I don't know how long we stand like that, but finally I get myself back under control. I feel so warm and safe and protected in his embrace, and that's what makes me step away. My heart is too tender right now to even think of such things, and so I will accept his friendship in the spirit that it's offered.

If he's offering something else, well, I'll worry about that when the time comes.

"This never happened," I remind him as I tie off the last bandage on his thumb.

"Something happened?" he says with that damned cocky grin as he leaves the room.

"Tori-atama," I mutter, but I can feel the smile coming back as I turn away from the door.


End file.
